Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Paraguay and from Jakarta.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001.
I was there at the first Tiga show in Montreal.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1970.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Columbus.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Seoul kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1975 at the first Ubu practice in a loft in Cleveland.
I was working on the sitar sounds with much patience.
I was there when Tom Verlaine started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing JFA to the rock kids.
I played it at the Hacienda.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Drexciya. All the underground hits.
All Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Joy Division record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a snare and a spring reverb and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Little Man record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a theremin.
I hear that you and your band have sold your theremin and bought a rhodes.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Cymande,
The Mummies,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Altered Images,
8 Eyed Spy,
Public Image Ltd.,
Second Layer,
Jeff Lynne,
Camouflage,
The Sisters of Mercy,
Sonny Sharrock,
Qualms,
Deakin,
Severed Heads,
Sight & Sound,
Roxette,
New York Dolls,
Moss Icon,
Lightning Bolt,
Sex Pistols,
The Index,
Suburban Knight,
Eyeless In Gaza,
The Neon Judgement,
Hoover,
Porter Ricks,
James White and The Blacks,
Peter and Kerry,
Dual Sessions,
Loose Ends,
Banda Bassotti,
Harry Pussy,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
David Bowie,
This Heat,
Mission of Burma,
Traffic Nightmare,
Gabor Szabo,
Jandek,
D'Angelo,
Warren Ellis,
Drexciya,
Isaac Hayes,
Animal Collective,
Fela Kuti,
World's Most,
Minutemen,
Mary Jane Girls,
Swans,
Peter & Gordon,
Liliput,
Graham Central Station,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
The Golliwogs,
Rakim,
Nick Fraelich,
B.T. Express,
R.M.O.,
Agent Orange,
Nico,
Public Enemy,
Davy DMX,
Eli Mardock,
Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad, Idris Muhammad.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.